you are telling me two fingers to the back of your throat tyler soaked in lighter fluid retching we are close to a big dark space i will try not to fall from this cliff of weeds i walked these paths the last time i thought i couldn’t sleep jumped to you with my eyes how glad i was that we didn’t find a playground in the sink of that circle rather a sea these warm days keep giving me back to myself equal and opposite form will you also run the edge of the sky while i lie limp with watching you i still remember the way he walks and he walks all lost cats are kitch i am the grass with a beautiful boy when he is not looking at me you are holding me the bridge two fingers my pants he is also looking for the sea can i throw a book at you such that our hands brush i was looking for the word your hands two fingers to a paper i fold how to find the middle of a negative space i might have to say stop saying

i keep forgetting i died holding you on my nose in the sky trying to remember whether i said something out loud the night before last can i be a shadow under a leaf two hands don’t hold sometimes forget i have died look at this sky that a kite fell into look at all these sunrises or may be all your weight can balance lips these words also skies i am a sleepy early late you keep reaching inside of me and holding i am eroding a salty sea i don’t want to eat an arrow pointing rain on my eyes and vertical motion trying to push itself through ringing ears the circling remarks of your yesterday i hope they are not hiding their bumpy roads elevators rising falling breaths years louds passing “said i said” water is about falling careful not to drown hands fluttering skipping cyclic time bringing the same thought her lips it’s like not

remembering your mouth to drink i am watching her hold the mouth of her glass and her hands are skipping water i am 13 again but i am also 24 in the park with you and i keep rediscovering the configurations of my face or losing my love in a red spiral i am curling in my future is tearing itself apart in the belly beneath my hands and you aren’t telling me about loneliness rest my hand on your thigh the sound might be so big that you run away see again how you were watching come to me like smoke body losing itself a falling out the needle i found for you is pricking me the color of iron i only want to make red books the same color of three fingers drawn out standing my body fallen around itself